Sunday, March 29, 2015

shame not bravery...


When people tell me I was SO BRAVE for leaving him, I laugh to myself....sadly.  
It wasn't bravery, it was fucking survival.  I couldn't live another day under the same roof with him.  Not when I knew the truth finally.
I didn't feel like I had a choice.
I had to leave.  
Leave or die.

And even after I left, there were a few months that I didn't care whether I lived or died.  I took insanely crazy risks.   I'm ashamed to admit that I took huge risks with my life.  Stupid ones, because I was in so much pain.

•driving drunk, not just tipsy but drunk. 

•speeding and driving recklessly at high speeds 75mph+, while drinking.  

•mixing HIGH doses morphine and large amounts of alcohol.

•cutting myself as deep as I was able, making sure I drew blood...and a lot of it. 

•walking in areas of downtown Portland late at night that were considered dangerous.


I didn't care anymore.  I almost wanted something horrible to happen to me so I didn't have to face another day.   
I wanted him to mourn me, to feel just an ounce of the pain I suffered.  

The only problem?  He didn't care(anymore).  He didn't see our separation as a mistake.  

He never showed up at my apartment begging me to come back to him, not once.  
He never came after me.

In the end, I wasn't even important enough to chase after, let alone fight for.  

2 comments:

bikinfool said...

All of the "He never did..., He didn't think..." - ALL of that - are HIS problems.

The most important one is he never met your needs.

Now is your opportunity to find someone who does.

monkey girl said...

You are very right.
And I'm learning to let that all go, one day at a time.
And hopefully one day, I'll find someone who will love me with the same intensity that I love them.
Hugs,
mg